


The one you think of

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Post-Beatles, Regrets, Two Shot, Unbeta'd, breaking up, i crawled outta the gutter, its me, look who crawled outta the gutter to post a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:06:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I heard at school that the very last person you think of before going to sleep is who you love," Paul claimed suddenly, Laying back on John's bed."Yea?" John asked. "I guess," He added after a thought. "do you have someone you think about?" Paul asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "before you fall asleep?" he clarified. "Well...yeah," John replied furrowing his brow. "Do you love them?" John blinked and found himself frozen where he stood. "well...." John paused before letting out a deep sigh. "yeah," he admitted. "who is it?" Paul asked******"You're so sentimental," John teased. Paul swallowed and gave a pitiful look. "I guess I'm still that boy I was when I first fell for you," Paul responded.  "you've come a long way from climbing through my window to tell me about a crush, Macca," John refused with a smile. Paul's bottom lip twitched into a wretched frown before he sat beside the other man.





	1. I Wanna Prove To You

John turned the page of his book as the wind tapped on his window softly. "Johnny," a shaking call, that sent tingles down his spine and made his face turn red than white in a few seconds. dirty queer. He combatted the call silently. "Johnny I know you can hear me," it called again, but John just buried his nose farther into his book. "John let me in, Please," it called again.

 _This was getting worse, he'll be sent to an institution in no time if he kept this up._ John thought looking up at the ceiling. "John it's cold let me in," his window shook. John looked at his window to find Paul shivering and pouting, a blush spread across his pale cheeks and nose. "Shit!" John hopped out of his bed and rushed across his room to the window, opening it quickly and holding out his hand to the younger teen, "sorry Paul, I thought I was goin' crazy," John explained.

Paul said nothing but grabbed hold of John's hands as he crawled through the window. Paul's hands were frozen, John's were sweaty.

"Dream of me that often?" Paul joked straightening out and pulling John to the bed. John's mouth fell open at that. "Mimi's not home, you shoulda just knocked," John informed, watching as Paul took off his trainers

"I heard at school that the very last person you think of before going to sleep is who you love," Paul claimed suddenly, Laying back on John's bed.  
"Yea?" John asked. "I guess," He added after a thought. "do you have someone you think about?" Paul asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "before you fall asleep?" he clarified. "Well...yeah," John replied furrowing his brow. "Do you love them?" John blinked and found himself frozen where he stood. "well...." John paused before letting out a deep sigh. "yeah," he admitted. "who is it?" Paul asked

"did you come all this way just to ask 'bout me love life? what's gotten into you?" John asked walking forward. "I think of someone too," Paul admitted ignoring John completely. "so." John called swallowing the lump in this throat and letting out a practiced smile. "that's what this is about, lil' Paulie fell in love, Aye?" John teased. "So who is it? whos the lucky bird?"

"Would you..." Paul started staring up at the ceiling. "would you hate me if it wasn't?" he asked quietly, his hands twisting in the sheets. "if it wasn't?" John asked sitting down at the end of the bed. "If it wasn't a bird," Paul clarified, his voice barely above a whisper.

John's a selfish man, even with Paul and John was more than a bit ashamed that his thoughts were overwhelmingly jealous and spiteful of and to his mate's love But the loudest thought he said aloud;  
"of course not, it's not Georgie, is it? you can do better with looks like yours," I want you to be happy, even without me. Paul broke a small smile and let out a breath. "well? Come on then mate let's hear it," John urged with a smile that didn't make it close to his eyes.

"you don't think I'm mad?" Paul asked. "of course i think you're mad you are, but not cuz yer queer," the teen let out a breathy chuckle before nodding.

"you like lads too, huh?" Paul asked. "yeah. but don't go thinkin' I'm hot for ya, _some_ of us can resist yer charms," he teased. "oh? what are my charms?" He asked in return with a smile. John feigned thinking for a moment to stop the immediate thoughts.

_Smile, eyes, laugh, sense of humor, personality as a whole, the thing that happens with your face when you're really happy, how you're surprisingly flirty for a 'proper lad'_

"yer got a pretty good arse," John decided Paul arched his brows with an amused grin on his face as he sat up. "do I?" he asked half flirtatiously. John nodded before continuing "very callipygian," He joked wiggling his thick brows. "Cunt," Paul called seconds before smacking John in the face with his own pillow. The flush across Paul's face, on his ears and neck and his bottom lip that the teen had been abusing for some time now, was unnoticed by the older teen.

"I'm being serious!" John laughed and held the pillow. "you looked like you were gonna puke, what did you want me to?" "help me," Paul said sitting back. "okay, so you're in love what do you wanna say to em? what's stopping you from just doing that Thing you do?" John asked crossing his stretched legs. Paul bit his lip and sighed. "How do you flirt with a guy?" "how do I?" John stroked his chin and squinted at Paul. "promise you won't you my skills to pull a bloke I've goin' for?" "you tryin' to pull any blokes?" "just one," "someone I'd fancy?" Paul asked. John smirked before nodding. "I think you'd fancy him quite a bit," "I doubt _you_ need flirting lessons from me, mate," John admitted with a shrug.

"well... what do guys do that makes you see they're tryin' it?" Paul asked carefully. "It's not a science Paul, so do you know he's gay?" "pretty sure,"  
"is he sending signals?" "kinda? sometimes I think he is, but I'm tired of waiting so I'm..." he trailed off with a hand motion "okay so easy, start with eye contact, you do this thing with your eyes, and mouth where your whole face reads "let me fuck you" do that," Paul snorted and looked away. "okay got it,"

"lips, play em up, bite em, lick em, draw attention to them if they look for more than two, three seconds you either have something wrong with your mouth or the "let me fuck you" face worked." John wished he had someone to help him when he was beginning, so no matter how it'll hurt when he sees his student graduate he continued. "or if you think they're interested, just be blunt," John shrugged before continuing. "kiss them or something like that where your feelings are clear," Paul nodded and bit his lip.

Putting on his 'let me fuck you' face as John so lovingly called it, Paul smiled softly. "Thanks, Johnny," Paul tilted his head to the side with a smile. "so...." he started looking John in the eyes he continued, "are you going to tell me who it is you're tryin' to pull?" he asked.

"Yeah, mike," John joked Paul furrowed his brows and sat up straight. "You do _not_ fancy my brother! He's not even- you wouldn't like him!" Paul exclaimed with a frown.

John raised his brows at the other teen and Paul knew he gave himself away by the surprised look on John's face. Finally.

"and how would you know who I'd like? why do you think you have rein over who I fancy?" John challenged. Oblivious git. Paul thought before leaning towards the other man. "I had hoped you fancied me, but you like my brother! My brother? Mike? I was almost too young to be in your stupid band but mike is old enough for you to want to pull him?-" "Paul," John called blinking slowly. "I can't believe how Oblivious you are! all Year I've been tryin' and You just go off and drool over Stu," Paul glared flailing his arms.

"but Paul, you're the one I think of," John admitted. "Stu! he pisses me off! so smug about you being queer for him, and Here I come! all this way in the cold with a fuckin' plan, John!" Paul continued pulling out a rubber. "a plan," he empathized. "but you're so dense! even when I do all the signs! maybe you just aren't interested-" John took the rubber from the teen's hand and arched a brow. "what would this plan purpose? I'm a god-fearin' bloke y'know? " He said with a chuckle. "Sex, obviously," Paul spouted still too angry to fully process his words.

"Oh? you fancy yourself, don't you? barging through my window with a plan to make me a miscreant!" John teased "Oh please! you'd done worse things than what I had planned," Paul shot back crossing his arms. This was not how Paul had planned this night to go. No, there were no soft 'I love you' no kisses that turned into more. most of all there was no gravity to the talk.

Jokes and teasing gestures only pissed Paul off. "so tell me," John started leaning into the younger teen. "what did you have planned?" He continued.  
planting a kiss jawline. "slow, sweet, romantic right?" John asked making his way to the man's neck. "I'm still mad at you," Paul informed but tilted his head nonetheless. "me birthdays comin' up, y'know," John started.

"don't expect nothin' from me, bastard," Paul complained. still, desperately trying to stay furious with the other lad. "How about a trip to Paris, to make it up to you?" John suggested. "empty promises piss me off John, I'm not some bird I don't believe I..." Paul trailed off as John, who'd gotten up off the bed before Paul could finish his sentence, and grabbed an envelope.

"got it from one of me relatives, what ya say, Paulie?" "I think you outta save it," "I guess I'll take Stu, if you don't want to come," John bluffed with a shrug. "you dick! I'll go!" Paul exclaimed bouncing to the end of the bed.  
"Yeah? give us a kiss then," John replied with a grin.

It was so easy. Paul thought as John unbuttoned his shirt. It was so easy to forget everything and fall into a different place with John, no matter this mood, John always made it easy to love him, to laugh with him, What happened that night thereafter would be a venerated secret he held onto long after his hair turned gray.

********  
when Mimi opened the door to find the lovers fast asleep holding in each other's arms, she smiled softly and closed the door. who was she to disturb the love between the chalk and the cheese?


	2. Black Memories

Paul didn't know what to do. didn't know what he could. Maybe, John simply didn't want him anymore. Paul couldn't bear the thought without a flinch. "you alright?" George asked. "Y-yeah, I just need a bit of air," he informed. "John, care to join?" John looked up, blankly. Paul hated the blank look like, he was looking through him.

 

John begrudgingly stood up and followed the other man. They made it to the rooftop and Paul found himself suffocating. He wanted it to forget it all, the band (what band?), the fans, their girls, the press, the world and just be with John.  John watched the other man as he pulled out a joint. "just keep those with ya everywhere you go?" Paul asked watching as John lit it up.

 

"only when you use that tone," John replied taking a drag. "John, what's wrong?" "I'm not having a long talk about me feeling with you Paul, I said my piece, you had no objections and now it's over," Paul clenched his jaw and sighed. "what did you want me to say? in front of everyone-" "that you cared Paul! are you happy? I wanted to know if I was more important to you than what people thought of you,"

 

He'd killed it. He killed it and failed. Paul clutched the wall, this stomach in his throat, the world spinning a breaking under him, and his vision spotting. "I'm not," John admitted taking another hit. The worst part was how John said it, not spitefully, not sadly, or broken, his voice didn't shake nor crack. he didn't sound angry or bitter or seem to blame Paul, He sounded as though he already knew, disappointed but not surprised.

 

It was so much worse than him screaming, he already moved on, and with that realization, he vomited. John patting his back as Paul held back tears.

 

"how could you just leave me?" Paul asked. "you left too, I just let go," John explained gently.

 

********                        

Four shots. it didn't register in his mind for a moment that he was shot.

His words came out garbled and weak as he lay on the pavement.

There were a million things in his life, a million regrets but none of them mattered as much as he grew cold. The driver said something, unclear to John but he called out anyway. He tried to focus on the roof of the car but he couldn't.

 

A peaceful memory of coming from a tour and having Julian jump in his arms. "you're leaving soon, Huh?" This wasn't what happened, but still, John nodded slowly. "why didn't you want me?" "Because... I was afraid of being my dad, so I figured i couldn't fuck you up if i wasn't around," "I didn't want a kid, I was a kid but I should have been there for you," Julian looked down and nodded. "I hate you," "I'm sorry," "you're a stupid man, for running to her, no one that loves you would do what she does,"

 

Before he could answer The boy was gone, Leaving John with an overwhelming sense of grief He'd never get to say sorry enough to his son.

 

Sean, his baby. a memory of sitting in the living room playing guitar for the toddler, much to sean's amusement as the baby grinned and giggled and held on to him.   

 

It was slow. He could no longer feel the pain that he didn't notice was getting less and less severe. He couldn't feel anything below him, the shake of the car. he couldn't the voices of the drivers or anything but his mother's disembodied voice. "Oh Johnny, Look at you," he chased the voice and found her, a solemn expression on her face as she held out her hand. "I know it's hard, to leave them before you want to,"  John's only thought before taking her hand was "I wonder who they'll turn out to be,"

 

***********

 

Paul did his morning routine as usual despite the gnawing feeling at the back of his mind. Jumping at everything, walking on eggshells. been like this since last night, been waiting for something bad to happen.

Then he got the call. Panicked and in shock the caller told him the news

And it was like a feeling of the vase that you could only watch as it fell finally hit the ground. He took the phone and threw it at the wall, watching as it broke to pieces. His legs were unable to support the weight of himself, or maybe he lost his balance as the world crumbled into itself like a paper ball, whatever the reason, he fell to the floor, where he stayed just staring at the dent in the wall until Linda came home to find her husband, once again broken at the hands of John Lennon.

 

"Paul, Honey, what's wrong?" She knelt beside him and wiped the relentless stream of tears running down his face. Then all at once they stopped, Paul's expression leveled out, and his back straightened.

If John had died, he would have told him. Paul reasoned with himself, rising to his feet with the help of Linda. "Nothing,"

 

When Linda found out, she carefully approached Paul, sitting down with a cheery smile on his face. He was sent home from the studio, George martian driving him home. "he's gonna crash Lin, keep him away from alcohol," He warned her. She sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "it's okay if you need to cry, I know he meant to you," "He's not   dead," Paul replied cheerily. "he's not?" "no, I'll wake up and I'll call him and he'll complain about me waking him up," Linda frowned and furrowed her brows, taking the man's hand in hers. "he's not coming back, baby,"

 

"No, he's not dead, if he would he would tell me," Paul repeated like a mantra. bursting to his feet with a clap. "How would he tell you? Paul, honey, He didn't plan it," "He can't be dead, Linda," Paul admitted shakily.

 

She frowned and wrapped her arms around the man. "I'm sorry,"

"he'll come back," He promised.

 

Paul refused to believe John was really gone, numb to the world but to Linda, it seemed that some part of him knew, as he drunk himself sick and cried at random points, sometimes over the simplest things like not getting the right brand of pasta or ciggies. But Linda stayed quiet, accommodating her Husbands moods and wants with patience as she let him grieve, she watched him and saw that some days were harder than the other, and a few made her think he'd never recover.

 

Paul was alone in his home, downing bottle after bottle hoping to drown himself in whiskey to no avail. It was harder and harder to believe it was just a dream, but he still desperately clung to the notion that it was.

He hummed along to the distance music. before reaching for another bottle. someone must've left the radio on. He thought.

 

The song called to him, urging him to rise to his feet, and so he did.

 

stumbling down the hall trying to find the source of the music, Paul found John in his bedroom, reading his book that Paul kept on his bedside table. "John?" He called out. The other man looked up "this books a bit of a drag init?" He asked arching his brow. He was young again, mop top and chubby. He just stared at Paul curiously. "what's wrong? ya look like you've seen a ghost," he informed with a smile.

 

When Paul stepped into the room, It transformed into his old home near Abbey roads. Now close enough to make out the song clearly he recognized it as a Sam Cooke song.  Paul rushed to the other man. "John," He cried wrapping the man in a tight embrace. The man let out a surprised laugh but hugged the man nevertheless.

 

"you're beautiful, so beautiful, I knew it was a bad dream, Johnny it was horrible," Paul cried holding John's face in his hands. John smiled and arched his brows. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't let anything happen to you, I promise Johnny," Paul promised between kisses. John laughed and pulled away, stroking the other man's cheekbone.

 

"my strong protector, are you?" John asked with a grin. "always," He answered urgently pressing another kiss on the man's lips. "I love you, god I love you so much, You know that right? I'll always love you?" he asked. John laughed and held Paul's hand.

 

"dance with me?" John asked with a smile he could have asked him to marry him, to strip naked and run around until someone took a photo and Paul wouldn't hesitate so long as the other never left him.

 

John pulled him to the center of the room, one hand on resting on Paul's hip and the other holding paul's. Their foreheads pressed together. "You're always on my mind, instilled in my heart," John sang quietly as they swayed lazily.

 

"You're always on my mind although we are apart," he continued wiping the tear from Paul's cheek. "you're really gone, aren't you?" Paul asked furrowing his brows. John smiled softly. "why did you choose this year?" John asked moving to sit on the bed, taking the pack of ciggies from the bedside table and lighting it up. "I guess... because we were the happiest," Paul admitted. John smiled softly and took a drag from his cigarette.

 

"You're so sentimental," John teased. Paul swallowed and gave a pitiful look. "I guess I'm still that boy I was when I first fell for you," Paul responded.  "you've come a long way from climbing through my window to tell me about a crush, Macca," John refused with a smile. Paul's bottom lip twitched into a wretched frown before he sat beside the other man.

 

"don't regret the right choice, Macca," "would things be different, if I had said yes when you asked me to marry you?" John frowned before taking another drag. "you would never have said yes," John replied. Paul opened his mouth and frowned. "I loved you-" "not enough to risk being an outcast, I wasn't your soulmate, I wasn't the one, you loved me, but not enough. you know this Paul, I knew this, and I ended it. Don't waste time trying to convince yourself otherwise," John took another drag before letting a cheeky smile play on his lips.

 

"That's what the sixties were for, love," He joked crushing the cigarette in the ashtray. Paul watched as the peaceful memory faded into reality, they were back in his bedroom he shared with Linda, and once again Paul was alone. 

 

When Paul came to, he has tucked into bed on the radio a familiar song. A dream or supernatural experience, it didn't much matter to him (although he chose to believe it to be more than his drunken brain trying to ease the reality of his first love's fate) as it all hit him, and it was as though a wiser part of himself violently forced Paul to look at it, to see life as it was. Alone, He couldn't stop the tears.

 

He felt sick as a dog as he stumbled to the bathroom. Vomiting in the toilet before Linda came to his side, rubbing circles on his back as he sobbed. "He's not coming back, He- I- should've been... more," he sobbed into her neck. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look a finished fic

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed


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